I left you when red cherries no longer were in seasonI left you when frost began to ice the dawnI left you when nighttime reached further into daytimeI left you as late summer braced with chillI left you before the harvest moon when autumn colors splashI left you before I could say goodbye So, rememberwhen … More From Phil
Twenty-two years ago, she came for her last visit the summer of mosquitoes so thick they’d attack you through your clothes, the summer of ladybugs in the corners of the baseboard, the summer the house was empty of much furniture, she slept on the only bed we camped out on foam pads on the floor … More Cycles of Impermanence
Aunt Libby kept us both as our moms went off to workBonnie and I watched Captain Kangaroo together in the morning,stifled giggles while pretending to take our afternoon napHer dad had been in the circus and taught herto do tricks on a trapeze he put up in the car port.Her mom always made us French … More Carving History
Death is a red scarfwrapped around my neckright at my jugularto remind me that Life is all aroundbut always precariousbe married to the blaze of being aliveNow. Top photo by Lesia and Serhii Artymovych courtesy of UnsplashBottom photo from Quotefancy
This poem does not answer the question, “What is the meaning of life?” It cannot make the pandemic go away or give me permission to go back to the gym This poem is just a screen shot of a moment in my life where two young men are cleaning bathroom grout making a lot of … More Doing Something
You appreciate themoonwhen it is a faintsliver beforesunrisethat you would have missedhad you not been up in thedarkto comfort Star Baby I found this poem I jotted down early, early one morning. Star Baby was our cat for 20 years. At the end she needed lots of care but also gave much love back. She … More Star Blessings
Balloons, bubbles, and backyard bouncingnew baby cousin watches with wonderbirthday celebration on my backyard neighbor’s deckseen from my back window From the front window another scenefriends and family with plates of foodofferings for grieving survivors ofmy across-the-street neighbor who died Me, in between the two housesisn’t that how it is?birth and joydeath and griefwith vicissitude … More Sandwiched
I know I’m alive when sweet spring hawthorn scents my doorwayI know I’m alive when French silk pie lingers on my tongueI know I’m alive when I slide between cool laundered sheetsI know I’m alive when movement of shadows change with the sunI know I’m alive when Clapton blues dance my feetI know I’m alive … More I’m Alive
Knees can get scrapedbones are sometimes brokenhowever Hope for Healingstill she persists Promises are fracturedlosses overwhelmhowever Hope for Healingstill she persists Icebergs melt too quicklypolicy pollutes our airhowever Hope for Healingstill she persists Disease spreads to manylonely goodbyes too soonhowever Hope for Healingstill she persists Photo courtesy of Pixabay
Not much paper to feed the flamenot much writing went ontime spent instead on memorial servicesdifficult sympathy cards to send Days lost without meditationcrackle with spiritual neglectleaving me more isolatedless intentionally loving But new days are dawningnot all bridges burnedeven some newly spanningacross dark chasms of last year *Poem inspired by Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem … More Burning the Old Year*
Wind Rush 